That Damn Apple
by Julia Claire
Summary: You can't blame me for what happened.  It's not my fault that James is an idiot, or that Hugo's a sneaky Slytherin, or that Scorpius was born, or that Dad is sometimes so annoying that I have to do the opposite of whatever he says... Rose/Scorpius


**Disclaimer: Anything you recognize isn't mine.**

**A/N: A big thank you to FirstYear, for beta-ing this, and to Bad Mum, who gave some much needed help with the Britishisms... and no, that's probably not a word. **

**Dedicated to DoubleCaramel, whose birthday it is today! Happy Birthday, Karla!**

That Damn Apple

The day after Christmas is the worst day of the year, at least in my house, because of the Weasley Family Christmas Party. Al says his family sleeps the entire day – they're a normal family, the Potters. My family spends the whole day being exhausted and annoyed, but the fact is we're so tired, we don't even want to admit we are annoyed. Which leads to even more stupid arguments than usual, and trust me, there are already a lot.

"So, Rose," my father said, sounding so deliberately uninterested that I knew what was coming next. "How's Scorpius Malfoy doing?"

"Shut up, Dad," I mumbled, too tired to be articulate. Stupid James.

"What was that?" he said keenly, probably thinking I'd betrayed some deep, dark secret, and completely forgetting he was supposed to act like he didn't care.

"Leave her alone, Ron," my mum said from over at the stove, where she was waving her wand over at the stove, trying to get the pancakes to flip themselves. One gave a half-hearted flop, and then fell onto the floor.

"Oh, Merlin," she sighed, leaning over to clean it up.

My dad groaned. "Hermione! I'm starving!"

She turned around, eyes flashing. "Oh, well, I'm so sorry."

"Did you ask Mum about learning some better cooking spells?"

I winced and thought how very ironic it was that although he was always telling _me_ to be careful what I say, when _he_ was always opening his (big) mouth and cramming both feet in.

"I am not your mother," she snapped. "Do _you_ want to try?"

"Er," he said, turning to me. "Rose?"

"No way," I said. "We all know who inherited the Molly Weasley cooking gene in this house and he's –"

"Right here," Hugo said, sounding tired as he entered the kitchen, still in his green pajamas, his blond hair sticking straight up.

"Thanks, Hugo," my dad said, sounding relieved to finally have a cook he could trust. Unfortunately, that meant that he could turn his attention back to me. "Now, Rose…"

"Dad, shut _up_! I've already told you a hundred times - there is nothing going on between me and Scorpius!"

"But James said - "

"James is an _idiot_," I said, tired of this argument. "He was just trying to get you all riled up on Christmas. It isn't a family dinner for him unless he's caused at least one big blow-up."

"I didn't blow-up - " he began, looking highly affronted.

"Oh, no," Mum cut in sarcastically. "You just stood up and knocked over the whole plate of treacle - "

"Well, he said Rose was dating that Malfoy," Dad said. "What was I supposed to do?"

"You were supposed to realize that James, who does not even go to Hogwarts anymore, had zero credibility when it comes to knowing what going on," I said. "You should have remembered that his name is _James Sirius Potter_ and his main goal in life is to cause as much trouble as possible, and you should have recalled that I have a boyfriend. Surely, _one_ of those thoughts must have crossed your mind!" I finished, then added, so he couldn't hear, "Empty though it is..."

"He's a Slytherin –" he said, hardly listening to what I had said and betraying what was probably the only thought that had entered his head at the time.

"So is the person who's cooking your pancakes," Hugo mumbled sleepily, as the pancakes sizzled on the stove. "So I'd watch out."

"– and a Malfoy!" my dad added, as though it hadn't been a second thought.

"I'm sick of you being so prejudiced against the other houses," my mum cut in, still annoyed about his remark about her cooking. "Your own son –"

"- is the first Slytherin in the family for centuries and the only one who can cook." I laughed. "Merlin's pants, we're such an odd family –"

"I'm more normal than the rest of you," Hugo said, waving his wand and flipping the perfectly golden-brown pancakes over.

I made a face at him, while privately conceding that he may have had a point. Of course my idea of what is normal in a houseful of half Weasleys may be somewhat skewed, but the fact remained he was the only one of the entire Weasley clan that had not yet exploded in a screaming fit at a family party.

"I'm just saying," my dad said, refusing to let the subject drop, like a dog with its favourite bone, " that he's a Malfoy and can't be trusted –"

"Dad, I've told you – I don't even know him!"

"See?" Mum said. "I told you –"

"Besides," I went on, wanting to end the discussion once and for all, "when we have talked - it's usually just _arguing_."

I finished the sentence smugly, confident in the knowledge that that would settle the argument once and for all, but I was wrong. Both my parents froze with such horrified looks on their faces you'd have thought I'd just said I was having his baby.

Deciding not to ask, I bit into the pancake Hugo had put on a plate in front of me and wondered why I couldn't have been born into a normal family.

* * *

Little brothers are _tactless_. I think it's in their genetic code or something.

"Rose!" Hugo said, coming up behind me in the corridors. I turned and waited while he caught up to me, completely out of breath. "I – I heard about you and Marco."

"Yeah," I said, determined not to break my ten-minute streak of never crying in public. Still, as Marco had very abruptly just broken my one-year streak of dating with him, a part of me wanted to say the hell with _all _of my streaks.

He motioned me into an empty classroom, and I went willingly. Hugo could be sort of comforting when I was upset, even though he was both a Slytherin and my little brother. He had a knack for knowing what to say.

"Will you go out with Scorpius Malfoy, then? As a favor for me?"

I guess the apple just can't really fall that far from the damn tree, however hard it tries. I suppose it wasn't Hugo's fault. What with being a little brother and a Weasley, it would have been a miracle if he'd escaped the gene for tactlessness. "What the _hell_?"

He sighed. "I knew you would take it like this…"

"How could I not take it like this? My boyfriend just dumped me about two hours ago and you expect me to date some boy I don't even know, much less like all that much, as a favor to you?"

"It's not like I'm asking you to _marry_ him. Just go on one measly date."

"I don't care! I –"

"Look, Rose," he said, so seriously that I actually shut up for a moment. "Dad's driving me insane."

"What else is new?" I said. "And what does that have to do with me dating Scorpius?"

"I'm sick of him making stupid comments about Slytherins, and –" His face crumpled. "I dunno, Rose. Sometimes I just always feel like I'm this big failure, and I sort of feel like maybe if we were both sort of failures, as far as house rivalries go, it'd be… better."

Sometimes I forgot that he really was just a kid, even if he didn't really act like one, sometimes. "Hugo," I said gently. "You know he loves you, right? And trust me – he drives me just as crazy as he drives you."

"I know. But – please, Rosie?"

No one can blame me for what I said next. See, Hugo never really looks intimidating, at least, not at first glance. He's on the short side and kind of... chubby. But now? With his lower lip stuck out and his sad eyes, calling me by my little-girl nickname... he was kind of cute. Besides, he was my little brother, and he was sad. What was I supposed to say?

"Fine," I said, regretting it nearly as soon as the word left my mouth. "I'll do it."

"Yes!" he said, the pout disappearing faster than Christmas pudding at the Burrow. "Like I said, it's not like you have to marry him, just go on a few dates –"

"A few!" I protested. "You said –"

"We'll be totally sticking it to Dad!" he said, acting the closest to gleeful I'd ever seen him. "You wait, Rose!" He did a little dance, then stopped when I groaned and leaned back against the wall. "Rose?"

"Go," I said, closing my eyes. "Just go. I need some peace and quiet so I can decide whether or not my little brother has just tricked the hell out of me."

He giggled – giggled – and left. Merlin - I hadn't seen him giggle since he was two, and Dad accidentally messed up some cleaning spell and filled the whole first floor of the house will bubbles. Hugo was really happy about this. Or, at least, happier than Mum had been when she'd found her little boy up to his eyeballs in bubbles while Dad ran around the room, wringing his hands and cursing.

I smiled at the memory, then leaned against the wall and sighed, feeling completely stupid, which I definitely was _not_. I inherited my mum's brains, even if a few of my professors have said that I don't use them. Whatever. Sometimes, I have better things to do than homework.

For the life of me, I could couldn't decide whether or not to run after Hugo to tell him I'd changed my mind, or to giggle with him. On the one hand, dating Scorpius - even as a joke - would just be awkward. He certainly wasn't the kind of guy I was interested in. He was medium height and certainly no not ugly, but he was skinny, pale, and quiet. He didn't play Quidditch either - not that I particularly cared, because it was all most of my cousins ever talked about - but all in all, he just wasn't the boy you wanted your ex-boyfriend to see you with in the days right after he dumped you.

The thing was though... it would make Dad angry. Not extremely so, perhaps. He'd been angry about it when James had made all that stuff up at Christmas, but he would get over it, eventually, if we ever started dating for real. Not that that was ever going to happen. It'd just make him... a little hot under the collar if I wrote to him one day, telling him the "good news". His letter back would be quite amusing - partly an attempt to be diplomatic, like he was about Hugo being in Slytherin, partly not-so-subtle hints about what a terrible thing I was doing, and partly just plain anger.

In any case, I did sort of believe what Hugo's had said about wanting us both to be "failures". He thought it would be funny too - I could see that - but the giddiness had been used so I wouldn't feel bad for him, once he guilted me into saying yes.

I thought, anyway. Either that, or he was even more conniving, more sneaky, than I'd previously believed, which was quite a scary thought.

I shuddered, then groaned. I knew I'd made my decision - some way or another, I was going to have to ask out Scorpius Malfoy.

Oh, Godric. I _was _stupid.

* * *

"Your wand work's wrong, Malfoy." It was Transfiguration class the next day, and though I sidled my way beside where he was working, I still hadn't the nerve to ask him out yet.

"It's jab, then sweep," he whispered back, sounding very assured of himself. He was the top of our year, but I thought I could've probably gotten better grades than him, you know, if I'd _wanted_ to.

"No, it isn't!" I said. "It's the other way around. I know that for a fact –"

"Look at my teapot. See how it's not as oval-shaped as yours?"

"No –"

"Weasley! Malfoy!" McGonagall looked annoyed. "I would suggest that you both close your mouths, unless you would like to spend this evening with me in detention."

"I'm just trying to be helpful, Professor." I held up my wand. "Isn't my form better than his?" I performed the spell, and watched as my tortoise turned into a teapot.

She sniffed. "Fine, but it's more of a jab first, and then a sweep. Your teapot is a tad too oval-shaped."

"She's biased," I told a smiling Scorpius. "My cousins were nuisances. It isn't my fault."

Really, she should love me – compared to the other Weasley cousins, except for maybe Victoire, Louis and Al, I was an angel sent from heaven. James even told me once that I wasn't a bad ass like he was - a word he apparently learned from some American wizard's son who stayed with the Potters for a few weeks that summer.

Actually, that kind made me angry, because even though most people would consider that a good thing, James certainly didn't mean it that way. I spent the rest of that day trying to convince him that I _was_ one, and I thought that I was coming up with some pretty good points, when he told me that a real bad ass wouldn't have to convince anyone of what they were. Everyone would just know.

I hate James.

* * *

I really was planning on asking Scorpius out on my own. Really. It wasn't my fault that Hugo thought I needed to speed up the process. I would have done it all on my own.

Probably.

"Oh, look, Scorpius," I head him say from where I was frantically trying to come up with six more inches on my essay for History of Magic due that afternoon. "There's my sister. Want to go say hullo?"

"I don't really think–" Scorpius started.

Hugo cut him off. "Hey Rose. We were just - oh, damn! I left my homework in the common room. I'll be right back!"

"I'll go with you," I said, panicking because I knew what he wanted me to do.

"Are you a Slytherin, now, Rose?" He rolled his eyes and left, mouthing "Namby-pamby, Gryffindor" before he turned the corner.

"Hey," Scorpius said, smiling and putting his books down on my table. "Did you start that essay for –"

"Do you want to go out with me?" I blurted, knowing that if I didn't do it now, I never would. I looked around; hoping the other two occupants the library – a small Hufflepuff girl and a tall Ravenclaw boy – couldn't hear me. I opened my mouth to go on and explain all about annoying my dad, when he shrugged, _blushed_, and muttered, "Sure."

Well, this was a sticky situation. Damn Hugo.

"– I mean," I said, hurrying on as if I hadn't heard him. "As a joke, sort of. A way to stick it to our dads, yeah? Mine's been driving me and Hugo crazy. I mean, I love him and all of that, and so does Hugo, but he can be amazingly thick-headed. He's always making comments about Hugo being in Slytherin... it annoys Mum to know end, and I think it bothers Hugo too, even if he doesn't admit it. This is all Hugo's idea, by the way – to ask you out, after Marco du – after Marco and I broke up. As a way to stick it to our dads, like I said before," I took a deep breath, and now it was my turn to blush. That had been embarrassing. "I mean... you probably get along better with your dad then I get on with mine..."

He snickered – the first time I'd ever heard him do so – like oh, you have no idea. "Sometimes, I think living with a dragon with a headache would be more pleasant."

"Oh," I said, still embarrassed. "Um. Does that mean you'll go to Hogsmeade with me in two weekends?"

He was blushing a little too, but not nearly as much I'd thought he would. Actually, he looked kind of excited.

He leaned closer to me. "Er, well...I'm going to have to rephrase my answer from before."

"Oh?" I asked, confused.

"_Hell_, yes."

It was the first time I'd ever heard him swear.

* * *

I'd expected my first – and perhaps only – date with Scorpius to be awkward.

I hadn't expected it to be torture.

"So," I said, for what felt like the thousandth time, sitting across from him in a booth at the Three Broomsticks. "What's your favourite Quidditch team?"

He shrugged. "I don't have one."

"Me neither," I said, taking a sip of my butterbeer, as we fell silent once again. It'd been like this for nearly a half hour. We were terrible together.

"Ooh, Weasley and Malfoy!" squealed a Slytherin girl, as she passed.

"Genius," I muttered, seriously sick of all the comments, which I'd initially thought were very funny. "Really, that girl's got some serious brainpower going on… She knew our _names_."

At least she wasn't completely pissed off like the last bunch of Gryffindor fourth-years, who went on and on about my "betrayal". Also, Lily, Lucy, and the Scamanders hadn't noticed yet either, which was a definite plus. Al had come in with us, but he'd left, though I wasn't sure if it was because of Scorpius himself or the fact that I was pretending to be interested in him. Al constituted anything remotely sneaky as a criminal offense.

I swear, that boy is not a Weasley. Frankly, I'm not even sure he's a Potter. Sometimes, the stuff he'll say... it's just too _nice_. James once asked his mum if there was any possibility that she had been Confunded when she'd given birth to Albus, and they'd swapped his real brother with some other baby. That theory, he said, would also account for why she'd given him such a stupid name. From the look on Aunt Ginny's face, I could tell she had been seriously considering using the Bat-Bogey Hex on him.

Scorpius was still silent, and was now staring around the room, blushing some more.

If they gave out a prize for Most Frequent Blushing, he'd win it, even if he was a Slytherin.

He'd seemed so excited, in the library, but now – maybe it was the fact that there were people around, but he couldn't seem to say anything except very short, direct responses to my questions.

"So what's your favourite colour – "

"Why isn't this an adorable little couple?" a sickeningly sweet voice asked.

I looked up to see Rita Skeeter, quill in hand, grey hair showing at the roots, with so much make-up caked on that she was paler than Nearly-Headless Nick. Two people we trailing behind her - a cameraman, and of course, my little brother. I didn't know why I was surprised. I was going to _kill_ him.

"Hello, honey," she said to me. "I'm Ms. Skeeter… We've met before?"

I grimaced, wondering what she was referring to. We had of course, met before. If you counted seeing her all the time at public events, questioning my mum and dad, or, even more ridiculously, the time when she practically kidnapped me, at age five, from Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes. I still remember the way her lips smacked together as she ate some of the candy she'd bribed me with and asked questions like, "Where does your mummy buy her dresses?" and "How many times a week does Daddy sleep on the couch?" Mum was furious when she found me. It might have been the angriest I've ever seen her – she was shaking all over, spitting about, "Sorry excuses for human beings," and warning me to, "Watch out for beetles!" This became a contributing factor in my chronic fear of bugs. I think. Luckily, I got over that a few years ago.

(Mostly.)

"Rose?" she said now, and I realized I hadn't been listening. Her Quick Quotes Quill was out in front of her, ready to spin out some extremely imaginative version of the truth. "I asked you how dear Uncle Harry is."

"Fine," I said, wishing I had the nerve to ask her when he became her uncle.

"How does he feel about this?" she asked, nodding to Scorpius, who was staring determinedly down at his feet, turning a colour even redder than my hair. "About your new boyfriend, I mean?"

"Fine," I said again, not knowing what to say. The Quick Quotes Quill drooped, as if it was bored. Behind Rita, and, I was sure, unknown to her, Hugo smacked his head with his hand, looking highly annoyed with me.

"Lovey-dovey," he mouthed, pointing to Scorpius and me and making a heart with his hands.

I wished I didn't know what he meant, but unfortunately, I understand how his twisted Slytherin mind worked works better than anyone. I shook my head vehemently.

"What's that dear?" Rita Skeeter asked.

"Nothing," I said.

Impatient with me, she moved onto to Scorpius. "And how does your family feel about this relationship, sweetie?"

He didn't respond, still resolutely staring at his feet.

"Mr. Malfoy?"

"They don't know," he mumbled, looking miserable.

"They don't know," she repeated, looking as if she had struck gold. "How… interesting." The Quick Quotes Quill had snapped back upright and had already scribbled half a page.

Hugo had started to make kissy-faces now, perhaps worried that I wasn't getting the message. The girls in the booth next to him were laughing uproariously, and every so often, he'd throw them scowls, which only made them laugh harder. They'd regret it later, I knew, but the truth is I'd I would have laughed too if my own situation hadn't been so dire.

There were so many people watching us. Even Madame Rosmerta had stopped passing out butterbeers, but was just standing there, staring at us. I'd only wanted to mess with Dad a little; perhaps have Hugo mention it to him in a letter, or have Scorpius write home, and have him hear of it in a furious letter from one of the Malfoys. I wasn't bold enough to pull off a stunt like this, wasn't brave enough to force my parents to read of my new "relationship" in the Daily Prophet the next morning.

Scorpius had looked up now and was staring at Hugo. I felt another wave of embarrassment. He'd probably never talk to me again after this, would have a good laugh about it over in Slytherin or at home in Malfoy Manor. Even though our first "date" had been a disaster even before Rita had come, it was still bloody mortifying.

"So, Scorpius," Rita said, with the air of a cat about to pounce, "What is it about Rose that made you ignore your family's wishes?" She eyes me doubtfully. "Her looks?" She gave me a false smile. "Don't worry, Rose – it isn't your fault you inherited your mother's hair."

I was slightly offended – I was no Victoire, but I wasn't ugly. I bit back the retort that at least I wasn't fighting a losing battle with aging, but that would've been too embarrassing, as though I was sensitive about my own appearance. I glanced over at Scorpius, to see if he agreed with Rita, but he was still staring at Hugo, and he no longer looked so embarrassed.

He just looked... I couldn't put my finger on it. Sort of… free, I guess. He still looked kind of red, but it was no longer so bright as my hair, fading into more of a flush of excitement.

"Yes," he said, sliding over to my side of the booth and throwing at arm around me, "Her looks. I've – I've never, uh, seen anyone more beautiful in my life."

The camera flashed, and that was the beginning of the most hilarious hour of my life. And seeing how I'm a Weasley, who practically grew up in Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, and who, in fact, came very close to being born there - that was saying something.

* * *

Young Lovers Defy Wishes of Family, Society  
By Rita Skeeter

Rose Weasley, 17, and Scorpius Malfoy, also 17, both grew up being taught to hate one another, writes Rita Skeeter, special correspondent. However, their parents could not keep them away from each other forever. From the time they entered Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry at the age of eleven, they shared an instant connection, despite the fact that they were sorted into houses that have a historic rivalry between them.

"It was love at first sight," Malfoy says dreamily as he looks at the stunning young woman sitting next to him. "We just really clicked."

Their secret affair has spanned months, the two admit, but at last, they have decided to go public.

"We don't care what people think anymore," Weasley says. "It was our parents who had their disagreements, not us, and besides, that's all in the past. We love each other too much to allow anything to come between us."

There is no doubt as to the amount of adversary in this couple's path. Malfoy says his parents and grandparents will, "Probably be pretty angry." Weasley agrees, although her young brother Hugo, age 15, who caused a scandal several years ago by being the first Weasley to ever be Sorted into Slytherin, posed for several shots with the couple and seems to be fine with it. The difficulties Weasley is talking about are no doubt her mother and father.

"My mother's a bit controlling about her public image," Weasley says. "She's kind of a tyrant about stuff like that. She won't be happy about me seeing Scorpius."

One has to wonder why a mother would feel that way, with her daughter so obviously content in the arms of such a mature, responsible young man. Is she jealous of her daughter's looks?

Malfoy thinks so. "Rose is beautiful, and her mum… Well, I dunno."

Weasley blushes when he compliments her, insisting that she is nowhere as beautiful as he is "sexy".

* * *

I think it was the words "lovers", "secret affair", and "sexy" that really set him off, and then maybe the part about Mum, which actually kind of made me angry too. Scorpius and I had made up a ton of stuff – I really did call him "sexy" at one point – but neither of us had said anything like that. I guess I should've known Rita would pull something like that.

Like I said, Dad probably would have tried to be diplomatic about the whole thing, if he hadn't heard it from Rita Skeeter in his morning newspaper. He might have refused to believe the whole thing if it had not been for the pictures accompanying the article of Scorpius and me snuggling in a boot, and in one, of Hugo randomly flashing flashed the a peace sign behind us.

Dad sent a Howler the next morning, screaming about how I'd disgraced the family and ruined my life, and sometimes randomly breaking off to stutter quotes from the article, like he couldn't quite believe them. The funniest part, though, was when Mum apparently came into the room, and they started a row while he was still "recording" the Howler. Even McGonagall, up at the staff table, cracked a smile when they came to that part. Hugo, of course, nearly wet his pants laughing.

"Oh, Merlin," Scorpius sighed later that day, sitting out by the lake with Hugo and me, going through the rest of our mail.

"What is it?" Hugo said, craning his neck, trying to read the letter Scorpius was holding. He immediately folded it up, looking embarrassed.

"Er… it's from my grandfather. A little crude."

Hugo laughed. "I can imagine. What'd your dad say?"

"I'm reading it now." He looked up after a minute. "His is a little crude too."

"Really?" I laughed. "I can't believe they're not piling us with compliments."

"He does say something nice about your aunt, at one point… Sort of."

"What is it?" I asked. "Come on, now you've got to tell us."

"He says, she's, er…" He scanned the letter again. "… While I can understand the attractions the young Weasley might hold for you, if she indeed took after her paternal aunt rather than her m –" He stopped. "Yeah, well. At least he thought your aunt Ginny was pretty, yeah?"

"I'm sure she'll think that's a great compliment." I rolled my eyes. "My mum probably would too."

Scorpius winced. "Sorry! And by the way… I never said anything about your mum to Rita. I've never even properly met her."

"I know," I said. "I was sitting right there with you. I already wrote Mum this morning – Hugo should have known Rita would pull something like that." I scowled at him.

"Why is it my fault?" he asked innocently.

"Because you're the one that set up the interview, dummy. Without telling me or Scorpius."

He gave me a sneaky smile. "I already told you… if I'd told you, you would have freaked out. You would have freaked out anyway, actually, if it hadn't been for Scorpius." He made a face at me. "It's funny how you're the only Gryffindor of the three of us… and we're still much braver than you. You're such a wimp, Rose."

I gave him a withering look, but he just laughed again and said, "What did the rest of the family say?"

I went through pile of letters on my lap. "Most of them are just surprised and make a lot of the same stupid cracks… Oh, Godric."

"What?" Scorpius asked.

"James writes that, 'When you lie down with the Snakes, you get up with bites.'" I rolled my eyes. "He thinks he's so clever… Actually, guys…" I stood up, struck with a sudden thought. "I think I have to respond to this one."

We went over to the Owlery, where I borrowed a quill from Scorpius, scribbled, "I told you I was a bad ass," to the bottom of James's letter, and sent it off.

* * *

"Rose?" It was Scorpius, the next day, in the library, looking nervous as he took the seat next to me.

"Yeah?" I looked up. "I got another letter from my dad today. He's calmed down some, but I would still watch your back –"

He laughed, but strangely, still looked nervous. "What's the matter? Is your dad still really angry?"

"What? Oh – no," he said. "He'll get over it, probably. He's not so bad as the papers make him out to be. I just… I wanted to ask you something."

"Shoot," I said, a little confused.

"Will you go out with me? Again?"

"Sure," I said, grinning. "But –"

"I have another question."

"Yeah?"

"Would you say the same thing if I tell you it'd be for real this time?" He looked really nervous now; a blush was starting to creep up his face again.

I thought about how disastrous our date had been before Rita had gotten there, how skinny and quiet he was... but then I thought of the way his face had looked when Rita had started asking him questions, the way we'd joked by the lake yesterday. I leaned in closer. "I'd say I had to rephrase my answer."

"Oh?" He smiled weakly, unsure.

I gave him a quick peck on the cheek. "Hell, yes."

He blushed, but I didn't care. It meant we matched.


End file.
